So Cold
by dciphoenix
Summary: Because everyone has them types of Christmases.


So Cold

Skye, Coulson, Friendship, humor, English, Father/daughter, teacher/student, Skye/Coulson

"This is a great idea. Way better than stupid secret Santa." Skye has several small bags hung from her hands, swinging near her knees, yet still seems up to wandering around a store aimed at children. "Turn that frown upside down. Don't make me paint you green." Skye smirks from behind a giant cherry colored wool scarf.

Coulson turns to her, hands stuffed in his coat pockets which are absent from bags. "I've already done all my Christmas shopping. It's one of only a few things I don't worry about and last we checked we don't have a child on the team." He sighs and frowns dismissively at the backwards 'R' on the Toys 'R' Us above the toy store's exit. After journeying to the mall some half hour before in their lunch break, he thought nothing could possibly go wrong; they would all buy some last minute gifts for each other before eating out together. But no.

Already weight down with several bags, bought for themselves or each other he watches Fitz and Jemma Simmons, sporting a Christmas jumper sporting flurry of brown reindeer. He spies Fitz picking up and pressing various buttons on a black remote control toy car with four large wheels. Hearing the words 'for May' and 'what do you think?' earns the younger gentleman a punch to the arm and to be dragged down one of the many isles by his friend. The remote control car wails with recorded motor noises and flashing lights in his wake, Coulson winces.

"One, you're our ride and two, it's nothing some eggnog can't fix when we get back." She replies, eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, yeah and Merry Christmas to you too." Shopping for presents in mid December when his own were already bought and wrapped for each person intended wasn't one of the things Coulson imagined he would have to perform after becoming a Shield agent.

"Enough of that before I buy you on of them things that dance to music." Skye points to a bright, fuzzy animal that sings and dances to music when placed near a speaker.

His expression turns blank, almost fearful. "You wouldn't."

She grins. "I would."

Without You

Turning the face of his watch into view with the opposite hand as the other currently holds a half drank glass of red wine, Coulson watches Simmons and Fitz sharing the same couch opposite him, the latter close to falling asleep. A festive movie on the plasma screen plays on in the background, decorated with golden tinsel along with Christmas cards in every shape and size for everyone. With the presents opened, excessive amounts of alcohol drank and the dinner having been served, eaten and praised after a joint effort to get the turkey cooked to perfection with May doing most of the clearing up that the younger agents had 'accidentally missed'.

Afterwards he'd taken the opportunity to hang out with the troublesome trio busying themselves with Christmas television and showing one another the gifts they had received. The afternoon had resulted in Fitz pestering a very unimpressed Skye and Jemma on a new Xbox 360 game he had unopened from one Agent May. All of which was now several hours ago.

Draining the glass of wine in his hand, his wrist brushes the pile of dark navy denim on his lap, he looks down at the bare feet and sprawled out form on the seat next to him. Skye rolls onto her side and stretches her feet further onto his lap; the unhealthy result of too much Christmas pudding and ice cream after a roast dinner.

Originally surprised they had all agreed to stay but hadn't the heart to pull them up on the chance they could go and visit family or spend the holiday season elsewhere for once - but he's glad he had bit his tongue just for once.

Skye snores softly at his right, he smirks down at her, undoing the buckle on the watch and turning it over in his free hand. The inscription on the back reads " _to Coulson, for everything. Skye_." The hand not holding the wine glass rests on her calf after he fills up his glass again. "Yup, today was a good day." He says to no-one in particular.

Flux

"Santa Claus sure looks different this year." Skye smiles at the Santa hat placed on the head of the Director of Shield.

"I could say the same." He carefully eyes her velvet green and red elf hat complete with plush elf ears.

"Fitz?" She asks. He's the only one brave or stupid enough to get a room full of government agents to wear festive hats.

Coulson nods.

"Sir?" Skye quirks her head to the side, making the small bells on the edges of the hat jingle softly. "You asked me up here?" She asks him, stealing a cookie from the small plate of chocolate chip biscuits sat next to a more than ample bottle of Jack Daniels, a glass and a gold gift bag.

"Oh, right. Yeah." He runs a hand down his face. _You've had one too many tonight, Saint Nick._ Phil Coulson ignores the small voice in his head and pulls out a small wrapped box no bigger than a wallet and hands it to Skye. "I didn't want to put it under the tree, didn't want it going missing."

She grins shyly then unwraps the gift with the enthusiasm of a tiny child before holding the twinkling band of crystals and diamonds wrapped in silver in her hand. "Oh my god! It's beautiful, sir, I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. Come here." He wraps his arms around her in a bear hug before taking the diamond bracelet and tying it on her wrist. "Hey, don't start crying otherwise I'll have to join in."

Break My Fall

Two shots fired and it's all over.

He rushes to her side, fearing the worst.

Prays rather than begs for her to be alive and breathing as their luck is bound to run out sooner than later.

Gun holstered, he's more concerned by Skye's body laying on the ground in a foetal position, covered in dirt and dust and clutching her stomach, rather than that of Ward's several meters away surrounded by a pool of his own blood.

Must have gotten in a kill shot while wounded.

Good girl, always was clever.

"Skye?" He can't remember a time when anything good came of her being far from his side. Coulson brushes hair from her throat, urging to find a pulse.

She stirs the moment he finds it. "God, this kills." Her hand comes up to blindly grasp his elbow, the other still at her wound, several inches left from her navel.

He apologies profusely as Skye winces and cries out as he rights her on her feet. "Do you think you can walk?"

"Coulson, hate to disappoint, but I can barely stand." She hangs onto him for support while his attention is elsewhere.

"Put your arms around my neck." He replies, welcoming the sudden rush of adrenaline at finding her alive. "Come on, we've got to get you out of here." He snatches up her gun. "Hold on tight." Coulson bends down briefly, lifting her legs under the knee with his right hand, gun in hand his left at her back. The last thing he needs is any of Ward's people wandering around at the wrong time.

He manages several rooms, searching for an alternate exit or supplies bandages, _anything_ before Skye suggests he gives her a gun before going back they way they came. He denies her the gun and he doesn't like her plan but it's the best they've got. "May's on the quinjet, she can do her best to patch you up while I get us the hell out of here."

A flight of stairs later, he slips his arm further round her waist, feels the end of her jutting out rib cage and the sticky, warm patch of blood. He tries his best of ignore it, instead focusing on getting them both to safety. "Coulson, put me down. You'll be quicker."

"What? Don't be stupid. I'm not going to-" She cuts him off.

"Listen to me, wait till I pass out. Then you can carry me, it'll be easier."

Coulson sighs. "We're almost there, just hold on." He does his best to sound unconcerned. Though the last time he checked there was several floors and flights of stairs.

" _Phil._ " her voice is soft, from exhaustion or worry he can't tell. He feels her right arm still hooked round his neck, the other limp by her side and wonders for a moment just how far he could get unscathed while carrying her in his arms. But then sees the blood on her fingers as she touches his cheek

"There's no way in hell I'm leaving you behind or letting that happen. When May gets here, she'll help me get you out and you can show everyone your nasty scar. Just got to keep her conscious till May gets here."

Skye smiles weakly, jaw slack and lips parted. "It won't be as bad as yours." She barely replies and it cuts him a thousand times. "Just get me out of here, Coulson." _Whatever the cost._

Phil Coulson wakes up in a cold sweat, his robot hand clutching the sheets as he sits up, bolt right. He runs his other hand over his eyes, heart racing. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, head in his hands as he sighs. "Worst Christmas ever."


End file.
